


The King and the Maiden

by OKami_hu, oksammich



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Quicksand Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oksammich/pseuds/oksammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crowned king of Nightmares still craves the light, and when he comes across the glowing maiden of sweet dreams, he just can't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King and the Maiden

**Author's Note:**

> July 7-14 is Quicksand week - this is one of my contributions.

The thick forest was menacing enough, despite appearing so lovely during daytime. Midsummer was nearing, the sunlight filtered through the leaves and the breeze carried scents of flowers and berries as well as cheerful bird song. Everything was green as far as the eye could see.

But at night, the pale moonlight bleached everything to black or white. Owls soared through the cool air, their eerie hooting chilling the soul. Foxfire blinked between the trees and spirits roamed the unseen pathways. No human in its right mind wandered out to the forests at night lest he wanted to happen across the most powerful spirit: the Nightmare King and his followers inspecting their realm and spreading fear and night visions to mortals.

Yet there she was, spinning and frolicking in the lush meadow like she belonged in his world of black and grey! He watched with the stoic stillness of a statue, face impassive from where he perched atop a slender, fierce coal-black steed.

His Fearlings converged in silence around him first, then crawled through the grass without disturbing even the tiniest insects there. Their arms and hands were long, pulling at the hem of her beautiful dress as she danced about unawares.

"Foolish maiden," they hissed in a shared voice, so much hoarser than that of their master.

Claws tangled in her hair. "But a pretty thing!"

Eyes flashed from the shadows, eerily white. "Will he let us devour her?"

She was no ordinary lass though. Her carefree abandon and her glow indicated that she was more - another spirit most probably. A lovely one at that indeed; Pitch had to admit that his minions were right. Her thick golden hair floated behind her like a cloud and her dress hid a luscious body - short and plump but inviting, the kind that makes men's mouths water. Her ample hips and supple tights were a single sinful promise, inviting as Heaven's gates; her round breasts like ripe fruits, they beckoned from under her dress, the neckline revealing just enough cleavage to be modest and enticing the same time. Her eyes were closed, thick lashes resting against plump cheeks, simple jewelry glittering in the moonlight.

Suddenly, without skipping a beat of the music only heard my her, she reached into the satchel hanging from her waist and pulled fort something that looked like gold dust and threw it into the air. The Fearlings retreated with a panicked hiss, momentarily frightened by their arch enemy, the Dreamsand.

The maiden dancing on the meadow was no other than the Sandmaid, bringer of sweet dreams and a good night's rest.

He swore, soft and low, rage knotting in the center of his throat. This was -his- time, -his- territory, -his- darkness, and here she was, merry as a fae in springtime! Scowling, Pitch nudged his horse forward.

Despite her reluctance, she obeyed. Her head hung low as she plodded across the grass, parting the writhing shadows of the Fearlings as easily as a fingertip through a puddle. Pitch towered over the Sandmaiden even when standing, easily dwarfing her diminutive stature with his long legs and broad shoulders. Yet, she was still a threat.

His proud face was mostly hidden by the low cut of his hood, black cloak spilling down his shoulders and resting on the flanks of his horse. A bit of gold thread embroidered the hem of most of his clothing, so even with his deathly ashen skin and dark garments, there was a bit of glittering light to be seen.

"Dangerous for an innocent maiden to be so alone," he said slowly, voice dripping acid.

Her dance came to a screeching halt; she twirled and her eyes flew open, revealing a warm gold gaze. She gasped without a sound and skipped back, hands over her heart. She was scared, but not terrified - her eyes remained clear as she took in the sight, lighting up a bit as she measured his mount. Finally, she smoothed out her dress and bowed respectfully.

"King of Nightmares." She did not speak, her lips remained closed, but her words took form in Pitch's mind; she used spirit talk. "You needn't worry about me. The forest is peaceful and I'm only doing my duty."

With a snort, he slid his legs over the back of the horse and dropped to the ground. Black cloth followed him like smoke, surrounding him in inky blackness that made him look all the more vicious. Baring his teeth, he approached her without an ounce of the same respect she'd shown him. She was a thorn in his side, beautiful and delicate-looking as she appeared, and he was not about to give her an opening to cause him harm with that sand of hers.

"Your duty interferes with mine," he snarled, eyes flashing. Around him, the Fearlings began to close in.

She backed away. "Isn't that how it's supposed to be since the beginning of Time...?" Guardians came, went and changed. Sandmaid inherited her position from the former dream lord not that long ago, but she was dedicated to her duty, and she knew the workings of the spirit world.

"You can't taint every dream with terror, and I can't sweeten every single human's rest. We're not at a battle, we're not competing, King of Nightmares!" Her back hit the trunk of a tree and she gasped mutely, glancing around. She spotted the Fearlings and her eyes widened. "I did not do anything to provoke your ire! Let us continue on our way."

Her nervous behavior was almost as satisfying as fear. Just the look in her eyes was enough to make him purr in delight, and when she made her soft sounds of surprise, it was all he could do not to lick his lips and let the Fearlings take her.

But she would be much sweeter on his tongue, for him alone to destroy. Quick as a snake, he took hold of her arm and wrenched her forward. Her skin was soft, so his fingers sank in easily. "I've waited long enough to have these dreams to myself!" he spat, eyes blazing, "Your reign over the humans ends tonight!"

Roughly, he hauled her toward his horse, much to the delight of his jeering Fearlings.

"Let me go!" Still not uttering a sound, her spirit voice rang sharply, trembling from emotions. Sandmaid wiggled, trying to dig her little feet into fragrant forest soil. "You can't do this! The Elder spirits won't forgive you! Please... Please don't! What do you want from me?!" She was trembling now, but her fingers were surprisingly strong as they attempted to pry Pitch's hands off her arm.

The Fearlings cooed and sighed, stroking every bit of luscious skin they could reach. No matter her strength, Pitch thought himself considerably stronger.

"They crave the light of innocence." Just those few words made the fiends shriek, descending on her soft thighs to spread them and feel the treasures inside. Pitch shook them off with a firm snarl--this one would be his.

"We've been in the dark for so long, little Maiden." When she refused to lift her feet, Pitch slid his free hand under her and hauled her into a neat bridal carry. She felt perfectly small and warm in his arms. "We are always alone."

The Fearlings repeated his words with soft whispers. They reached up even as he mounted his steed and settled the Sandmaiden down side-saddle in front of him. "You have the power to ease my pain."

The darkling creatures' intrusive curiosity wrung an actual squeal from her that warmed Pitch up from the inside. Her lips closed again though, pressing together to hide their trembling. "Your pain-?" she inquired, a little confused. "I didn't know- Still, don't do this, please! I don't want to fight you, and I'd gladly help but- What do you want? To steal me away and keep me in your palace? You can't do that!"

With deceptive tenderness, he brushed the long hair from her shoulder and bent double to kiss her rounded shoulder. At the mare's side, the Fearlings were tearing at her skirt, all craving the fulfillment that her body could provide. "Even creatures of darkness crave the sun," he whispered into her skin, a long arm sliding around her waist. "Do you have any idea what you look like to us?"

He would break her. He would defile her from the inside out, until she was just as dark as he. With a low chuckle, he turned the horse, kicking his heels to spur her into a trot.

"I'm sorry, but I can't have any of that!" Her eyes finally flashed with anger. "Have some light for yourselves!" She plunged her hand into her satchel and threw a handful of dreamsand at the Fearlings. The creatures shrieked, but their screams only got louder once the glittering dust came alive, forming fists that caught them and began to crush them, birds of prey that tore at them with their claws and beaks and thin golden ropes that tangled themselves into lassos, launching at those who tried to escape.

"Let me go, Pitch!" Sandmaid commanded, with another dose of sand in her hand. "Let me go NOW!"

The shrieks of his creatures should've been enough for him to abandon this mission. She was too dangerous, her sand too bright, her power too much--

But her fight was deliciously fierce, a hot flame to his cold soul, and he gravitated toward her like a man lost in the arctic. His lips peeled up into a predatory sneer, as he grabbed hold of both her wrists and turned her to face him.

He hated admitting how much he missed the light, but here it was, blazing hot for -him-, and he wanted it. He wanted it all.

The Nightmare King snaked forward, crushing their lips snugly together. Sugar and creme invaded his senses, soft everywhere he touched; he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her near, drinking from her sweet mouth with slow strokes of his tongue.

A few delicious moans reverberated in her throat as her mouth was plundered. She jerked in his arms but her vigor was fading. The Nightmare King's kiss, if he so wished was able to steal any creature's consciousness. Sandmaid's fingers relaxed, the dreamsand spilling harmlessly from her grip; her eyes fluttered shut and finally she went limp in Pitch's arms. The effect was going to fade eventually, but not before they reached the Nightmare palace.

With its mistress submitting to darkness, the dreamsand torturing the Fearlings fell to the ground, only to be tossed up by the wind and carried away. The minions tangled themselves into their king's cloak, soaking up his cool darkness, crooning like birds caught in a storm. A few of them have fallen, dissipating into thin air from the light, but the damage was worth the prize. Sandmaid lay motionlessly in Pitch's hold, golden eyes closed, lovely bosom rising and falling slowly as if in a sleep.

***

He was a King first, a fiend second--therefore, the lass was undisturbed, untouched on his bed. She was a soft rose in a field of deep black, with silk hanging from the high canopy above her, satin brushing the bare skin of her arms and legs, and beneath her head, a plush feather pillow to keep her comfortable.

Usually, a creature of the light (especially an unconscious one) would be rapidly devoured by his Fearlings. But, the Sandmaid had proved a worthy adversary, so they sulked in the darkest shadows furthest away from her slumbering form. Only their lord remained, reclined in a chair at her bedside, chin resting atop steepled fingers.

He wore just his robes now, made of silk that clung to his lithe form like a second skin. Without the hood to obscure his face, his noble features were sharp as if carved from marble; and his eyes were bright, glittering in hungry animosity. "Wake, wake, little Dreamer," he murmured, bidding his voice to permeate her resting world.

Long, dark lashes stirred and full lips parted in a tiny yawn. Sandmaid lifted her hands above her head, stretching languidly, the motion causing her dress to slip off her leg, showing a bit of thigh. Her eyes slowly opened, blinking sleepily at the canopy above. She tilted her head to the side, confusion lingering on her face.

As soon as she saw Pitch, she was up and alert though. She bolted up with a gasp, small hands frantically pawing all over her dress, to make sure it was there and not torn or soiled. The satchel was gone from her waist. She glared at the Nightmare King, scooting back on the bed until her back was against the wall.

"You scoundrel, you vicious fiend!" she fumed, but Pitch could taste her fear in the air. "Release me now! If you think you can keep me here, you are sorely mistaken!" Her arms crossed over her chest. "You are not getting a flicker from my light!"

His mouth watered, her terror and anger mixing in the air like a sweet perfume. He wanted nothing more than to hear her scream, but he was a patient predator, able to control himself and enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Slowly, Pitch eased forward to rest both hands on the mattress.

"Why so angry, Sandmaid?" His robe slid, baring the column of his long, thin neck. "I only want to share myself with you. I know what you crave. You feel just as lost as I, without a cool shadow to temper the harshness of the sun."

"You think too highly of your abilities, Nightmare King. To think you can see into my head or heart! Your deeds won't go unpunished, you know that as well as I!" Sandmaid forced her hands down and stuck her chest out and chin up bravely. "I do not wish to have a share of you! You took me here against my will! But still, if you give me back my dreamsand and let me go, I won't tell about your insolence. Please make the right decision!"

"I do not need to see into your head or heart." His voice dropped, husky as he settled on his knees. The shadows upon the bed brushed gently across her hands, her arms, her cheeks, desperate for her warmth. "I feel your fear, and it tells me all I need to know."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head in disbelief. "And just what does my fear tell you aside that I don't want to be violated? You want to steal my light, lock me up, devour my spirit and ravage my body! My fear is a mirror, and you should see your true self in it! You could be a Guardian, yet all you do is evil, terrorizing people when you could help them...!"

"If I wished to defile you, I would have done so as you slept." It was a partial lie, but even a half-lie was still a half-truth. Pitch crept across the blankets, spidery hands aching to touch, too, but he waited. He would make her want him. "Just a taste," he murmured, soft and low, a secret just for her, "Just for a moment, let me pretend that I am deserving of your sweet light."

"You already stole a kiss from me..." Sandmaid turned her head away, glancing back at Pitch from the corner of her eye. Now that his face wasn't hidden by a hood, she realized that he wasn't without charms. His tall, lean body was strong, shoulders broad, skin smooth as marble - and his eyes were golden, bright as a star. Sandmaid recalled a rumor she heard - that Pitch used to be something else, long before Man on the Moon united the Spirits. His eyes were lovely. And he was handsome, with a softly arching but pointy nose, thin but finely drawn lips, prominent cheekbones and swept back hair shimmering as silk.

She held out a hand. "Taste once, then let me go! You could have more if you just asked."

The fiend leaned in to press a kiss to her pudgy little hand, lips dragging slowly across her fingers. Her skin was radiant, giving life to his cool lips with even the smallest touches. "You did not fight so wildly when I kissed you," said he, finally tilting his head to rest his cheek against her palm. "And I am so used to being denied everything, perhaps I have forgotten what it was to be a gentleman."

As he spoke, he trailed kisses up her wrist, paying attention to the spots where veins were closest to the skin. "I hope you will forgive me."

"Your kiss put me to sleep," she pointed out, lips pressed together tightly. She did not pull her hand away though. "Let me go and I'll forgive you. Let me go and you can make it right."

"It only put you to sleep?" Pitch was not one to be so easily deterred. He made his way up along her arm, inhaling her soft fragrance, until he was able to kiss her delicate throat. His lips wrapped around her pulsepoint, gently suckling as he eased the strap of her dress down her shoulder. "I recall hearing some most unchaste of sounds from you, dear Sandmaiden."

Pitch nuzzled her bare shoulder. "How was I to help myself?"

"It wouldn't hurt you to try," she grumbled still, pushing at him with both hands. "You merely surprised me!" Pitch could feel her heartbeat beneath his lips. It was fast, and her breathing was speeding up as well.

He took a chance, daring to rest his hands around her waist. Pitch was at her ear before she could react, lips against the delicate shell, breath cool as he gently took the lobe between his teeth. "Your moans were delicious," he whispered, "Just as sweet as the rest of you."

Pitch held onto her hands to keep her from fighting. After rubbing the tiny knuckles, he pulled them forward so the palms could rest on his chest, bare and exposed between the opening of his robe. "It took a great deal of control not to have you right there. Do I not earn some semblance of gratitude for restraining myself?"

She looked at him, lips trembling slightly. "You still want to defile me... You're not going to let me go. You want to keep me here until all my light is gone and I die... You could just stab me with your sword!"

"Don't look so horrified. I am certainly not the only spirit who has taken notice of your," he gestured to her rather noticeable bosom, "considerable charms. If any of the males say they haven't entertained thoughts of defiling you, rest assured that they are lying."

He tipped her chin up with his nose, then gently assaulted her throat with lips and the softest bites. "Is it so wrong to desire you?"

"I-it's not that..." She was trembling and her fingers fisted into his robe. "But you want to kill me...!" He could feel her swallowing deeply. "If... if I let you- will you let me go? If I give you what you desire, will you spare me...?"

Humming thoughtfully, he sank down in front of her so he could nuzzle the tops of her supple breasts. "Sandmaiden, have you ever reached completion before?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Her cheeks took on an adorable rosy shade. "A few times..." she confessed, even her spirit-voice lowering to a whisper.

He grinned against her, hands resting on her wide hips. Slowly, he began to knead. "I'll make a deal with you, since I am feeling generous: if you are able to reach climax three times, with my name on your lips, you will be free to go."

"You fiend...!" she wailed softly, but her breath hitched with elation at the promise. "Alright, we have a deal." She took a deep breath, seized Pitch's jaw and tugged his head up to place a kiss on his lips. "The pact is sealed," she announced, then shifted a little uneasily. "Please... please be gentle."

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything else." He swiped his tongue over her lower lip, then pushed it inside, greedily tasting her sweet mouth. His hands pushed back to rest on her fat little bottom, where they squeezed the inviting flesh with all the enthusiasm he could muster. She would feel so good against him!

After a moment spent pawing at her, he hauled her into his lap, forcing her to straddle him while he took kiss after kiss.

She responded timidly first but soon became bolder; her arms slid around his shoulders, fingers digging lightly into his muscled back. Her thighs squeezed his hips - she obviously wanted to close them but couldn't. She wiggled on top of him too, the closeness of a male body affecting her nicely.

He pulled back with a surprised laugh. "You're not doing a very good job of hating this," he teased, sliding his knuckles under her jaw and gently tipping her face up. She was flushed beautifully, lips already swelling from all the attention. He couldn't help but steal one more kiss. "Your previous lovers were certainly lucky."

Pitch carefully tugged the remaining strap of her dress, and when it fell, he assaulted her shoulders, collarbone, and neck with eager, open-mouthed kisses.

"If I hate it, I'm not going to climax," she whispered bashfully, tilting her head back a little, to give him more room. Her hands mapped out his facial structure and tangled into his hair. She rolled her hips, jumping a little as she felt Pitch's desire.

He winced--she was much more perceptive than he'd anticipated. Through the thin fabric of her dress, he was almost certain he could feel the shape of her plump sex. His cock twitched in approval.

The little tart.

With a fiendish grin, he devoured her mouth again, this time with a merciless tongue that swept demandingly over her teeth. His palms pressed flat to her chest, where they gripped her firmly over her loosened dress.

She let out a small and for a change audible moan. Her hardened nipples were poking at the golden fabric, brushing against Pitch's palm. She was panting softly, holding onto his shoulders as if for dear life; otherwise she would have stumbled back. "Th-that feels nice," she projected. "You have strong hands..."

Pride warmed his stomach and chest. "You are so very sensitive," he murmured, as he dragged his hands out to the sides so he could get a nice feel of her breasts. Even as large as they were, he could still reach her nipples with his thumbs. Lazily (but firmly still) he stimulated the stiff nubs with slow, circular strokes.

"Your beautiful little body is just pleading to be tasted from top to toe." He kissed her cheek, then took hold of her ear again. "You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? You would love having my tongue on every single inch of you."

Sandmaid mewled and gave a tiny nod. Yes. Yes, she would have loved that. She would have loved that tongue all over her skin... And inside her, wiggling between her folds, lapping at her bud, chasing her into a sweet frenzy.

She would settle with nothing less.

He took his time, though his mouth was watering for him to taste the sweet honey that was likely already soaking her. He took gentle bites of her shoulders and throat, distracting her as he grabbed the bodice of her dress. Her breasts were freed by one smooth jerk, letting them bounce deliciously against his chest. Pitch seized the dark nipples between his fingers.

"And I suppose you want my tongue on these lewd things too?" He gave them both a gentle tug.

Her cheeks lit up with pink again, and she nodded. One hand holding onto him still, she pressed the other against her breast, caressing the full mound and squeezing it - like she surely did when she was alone in the palace on the Island of Sleepy Sands. "Please," she pleaded softly, lifting her breast a little, as if offering it to Pitch.

How could he resist her? "What a sweet girl," he praised, then extended his tongue to flick over her offered nipple.

It reacted beautifully, hardening against his caresses with startling eagerness. Pitch couldn't help his delighted moan, nor could he stop himself from gently biting into her breast. He cupped her other one in his hand, smoothing his thumb back and forth over the nipple; his eyes drifted shut in bliss as he suckled from her, keeping the bud trapped between his teeth.

The silent little Sandmaid was making the loveliest sounds - no words, but shuddering gasps, tiny mewls and moans and heavy panting. He cradled Pitch's head to her chest as a mother would hold an infant and watched him with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. "So good..." she sighed inside their minds and placed her hand on Pitch's, applying some pressure on it, encouraging wordlessly to knead a bit firmer.

His breath came fast, lips still sweetly pulling from her breast. As he was willed to, he pressed down on her other breast, crushing it against her body with ferocity; he pinched her nipple between his fingers, rolling it 'til it was harder still. Then, he latched to that next, making all manner of filthy sounds as he gazed up at his little Sandmaiden.

The warm golden eyes were alight with lust, white teeth worrying over a plump lower lip. "You're handsome," she whispered into his mind lovingly. "And your lips are like sin, so tempting." She pulled away, to sit on her heels and curled his fingers around the hem of her dress. "I'd like your tongue... elsewhere." she pulled the golden fabric up, revealing her thighs.

He rested his hand over hers, that smirk never waning for a moment. "That won't do at all. I want to see exactly where I am supposed to tend to."

With a small sigh, she tugged her dress all the way up and over her head, finally placing it down on the edge of the bed. Her thighs and belly obscured her treasures still as she sat there, clad in nothing but jewelry. She shifted, leaning against the pillow but her legs were still pressed together. Pitch had to wait a few seconds until she finally fought modesty off and slowly spread her thighs, revealing her pussy. Pitch could catch a glimpse of pink folds glistening moistly between the lips.

"Here,” she whimpered. "Your tongue... here."

He peppered her tummy and thighs in soothing kisses, able to get a good whiff of her sweet, feminine scent. "Ah, that's what you want?" Pitch took hold of her wrist, wrestling it from her, then pushing it against her wet sex. It was simple to guide them inside, forcing her to stimulate herself to his satisfaction. "And how greedy this is," he whispered, pulling the short digits out so he could lick her juices away. "How delicious.."

"There's more," she assured him with ill-hidden eagerness. "If you slip inside... They say I taste sweet." She put her hands back and with two fingers, she parted the lips. "Please, treat yourself!" After a moment of hesitation, she added: "You might have to reach far..."

"No, no... not far at all." His eyes glinted as he grabbed her by her thighs and hauled her forward, knocking her onto her back. After prying her legs open, he buried his mouth against her, kissing her most secret spot as deeply as he could manage. His tongue was long, so he was able to taste her sweetness with the utmost ease. Her clit bumped his nose, but he paid it no heed for the time being. Instead, he flicked his tongue in and out, letting it squirm against her inner walls.

Sandmaid squealed and her back arched from pleasure; her tiny hands clamped over her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh... Ooh!" Her mouth hung open as she panted. "Pitch... Pitch, mmm... oh yes...!" She grabbed her breasts next and squeezed and caressed them, to enhance the experience further. "Oh Pitch, please...!"

She was addictive as she was beautiful, responding eagerly when he took one lip in each thumb and spread her open. He left her exposed, beautifully helpless and open while he stabbed his tongue inside in brutal, demanding thrusts. Her body twitched around him and he loved every moment of it.

It was wonderful, mind-blowing, but still not enough. A hand joined the wicked tongue, rubbing at the hard little nub on the top. Sandmaid was still playing with her breasts and she moaned with delight, her finger moving fast.

"Good girl.. what a good girl." He slipped his tongue against her finger, then resumed his task with gusto. He fucked her with his tongue, deeper, faster, and reached up after some time, lightly swatting her breasts.

She was moaning constantly, tossing her head to and fro. He thighs quivered, trying to snap shut, but Pitch kept them apart easily. Her breathing turned frantic, muscles tensing. "Pitch... Pitch...!" the name was soft on her lips, she used her voice that was sweet and girlish. "Oh Pitch-" Her eyes widened and her fingers rubbed even more vigorously. "Oh by the stars, Pitch, PITCH!!" Her entire body seized up and she came with a squeal, her inner walls spasming.

He leaned back, eyelids dropping lazily as he let his tongue hang out a bit. Her juices dripped down onto his chin, splattering onto the insides of her thighs. "That's my girl.. You loved it, didn't you?" Gently, he rubbed her swollen lips, helping her ride out her orgasm with long, skilled fingers.

"Y-yes... oh yes." Sandmaid cuddled her breasts, thighs still trembling. She licked her lips, then glanced up, and with pleading eyes, she reached out for him. "Can I get a kiss...?"

"Of course, my little maiden.." He slid up to lay between her thighs, hand smoothing down her belly to curl and press between her thighs. As his fingers sank into her, he pressed their lips together, so eager to swallow her moans.

He got what he wanted; her body twitched then relaxed, luscious thighs spreading a bit, to give him more room. Sandmaid curled her arms around Pitch's shoulders and kissed back eagerly, her tongue sliding against his; and she moaned. "You could make me come again..." she cooed without words. "Your fingers are so long...!"

"But I only have you for three climaxes," he murmured, pressing down on a soft, spongy patch inside of her and gently flicking it. "So I can't have you losing it again, now can I?" He wanted her to beg for him, to plead for her enemy to plunge deep inside of her.

She pursed her lips, disappointed. “So I have to climax twice with your prick inside me. You are so cruel, never even giving me the chance...” She rolled her hips. “It still feels nice though... That spot- it feels good.” She pulled Pitch into another lazy kiss. 

Several heartbeat later though the Nightmare King felt something strange; a firm pressure against his midsection, most notably against his erect flesh. As he glanced down, he noticed a pretty leg pressing against him, rubbing slowly. Sandmaid wore the most innocent look, ever. “You feel impressive...”

He arched a brow. "Once I'm inside of you, you won't call me cruel." To prove his point, he opened his robe to let himself free. Fully erect, he was much longer than her foot was; he dribbled down her toes, defiling even her adorable little feet. "You'll love this too, won't you?"

"It depends on how well you're using it..." she teased and reached down to curl her hand around the shining head. "You are pretty big and thick..." She bit her lower lip again and squirmed. "Hard and hot, too. You're going to tear me apart...!"

He shuddered, heart jumping up to his throat. He knew she'd love it.. "Just wait," he promised, grabbing her by her arms and shoving her back into the mattress, "You'll be just as addicted to this as I am to your light." Pitch slid his hand down her front, up and over her breasts to spread her pussy. Then, he nudged the wide head against her, cramming it against her tiny opening.

Her orgasm let her deliciously slick and pliable; still it was probably going to be a tight fit. Sandmaid cuddled her breasts again, teeth worrying over a fingertip. "You promised to be careful!" she pleaded. He was stretching her mercilessly and she was trembling with anticipation. "Please... please, Pitch!"

When he could manage to go no further, he withdrew to stroke their mixed natural lubrication over his member. As he touched himself, his long fingers brushed over her again, gently sliding in one digit, then two. "How can you ask me to be patient, when your body is pleading so loudly to be claimed?" He pressed them in and out, tormenting her tight walls; then he placed himself back where he felt he belonged. Hips rolling, Pitch inched in further than before.

"Ah!" One of her irresistible loud squeals filled the air again and she opened her arms again. "You're right, you're right, oh please Pitch, spear me again, as deep as you can! I want you inside... please strike again!" she begged. "I want to feel your seed inside me...! I need it.. I need it so bad!"

He'd have been more smug, but she was so tight that he could barely think, much less gloat. Her soft body was perfect, skin like silk and insides boiling hot as dragonfire. It took a moment for him to gain his composure, before he began to drive into her without mercy. "Look at me, little maiden.. I want to see your face."

She obeyed and stared at him, trying to tug him closer amidst sweet whimpers. "Kiss me please, please...!" Her eyes were blazing, soft gold darkened to tiger orange with lust; her soft lips were open as if for a silent scream, tongue sticking out just a little bit, a decadent invitation.

He couldn't help himself, sliding his long fingers into her mouth first (just to see how deep they would go); then, his lips were upon hers. His hips were wild, bucking ferociously, slamming deeper, deeper, testicles slapping her tight, wet cunt. Both hands kneaded her breasts, rubbing them hard against her chest.

Her nails scratched his arms, leaving dark lines on is deep ash skin. Her legs wound around his waist and held on tight, pulling him in now and then. Sandmaid was glowing, her light intensifying with the pleasure written all over her face. The only warning of her approaching orgasm were her widening eyes; suddenly her back arched and she came squealing Pitch's name. Her climax left her shaking and boneless, letting the Nightmare King do with her as he saw fit.

He clenched his jaw hard enough to hurt, teeth grinding together as he fought off the urge to fill her small womb with everything he had to offer. He knew she would take him gladly, but he didn't want this to finish so soon.

Pitch held her hips with both hands, keeping her steady as he pulled himself out of her pussy with a deep groan. He missed her heat, but it was for the best that he stop for a moment.

She whimpered at the loss and glanced up, eyes still hazy from pleasure. "But you're not finished... Pitch, please, I want it... I want to feel you come inside me!" She struggled up on her elbows and reached out for him. "Put it back... Doesn't it hurt to restrain yourself so?"

Glancing over his shoulder, he gave her a cruel smirk. Long, beautiful fingers wrapped around his length, and as he arched his back, he let her take a nice look at what she craved. "I am exhausted from pleasuring such a greedy young woman. Perhaps if there was some way for me to take a rest?"

She sat up, popping a finger into her mouth and looking troubled. "I'm sorry... I didn't meant to cause you trouble." She blinked. "Maybe if you just laid down, my lord? I'm sure I could satisfy you like that."

Just what he wanted. He managed to hide his smile as he laid back, draped lazily over the pillows and legs spread just slightly. "Perhaps you can manage to please me," he murmured, sounding as if he was entirely unaffected by the passion they shared. "Climb atop your steed."

She obeyed eagerly and straddled his thighs, so his cock was nudging at her belly, and her hot sex was brushing against his balls. "Can I put you back inside?" she asked , soft eyes regarding the erect flesh hungrily.

He couldn't help himself, reaching up to cradle her large breasts in both palms. Licking his lips, he gave a soft smirk. "Say please." And just to tease, he began to rub against her plump slit.

"Oh... Oh!" Sweet lips open to the loveliest moans, she rubbed back, seemingly unable to control herself. "You're so hot and hard, my lord...!" She was practically riding, her labia wrapping around his shaft. He could even feel her erect clit over himself! Her luscious bottom swayed back and forth; her nipples perked. "So good...!" she breathed sliding over him again and again.

Pitch groaned in approval. He held her hip in one hand, and with the other, delivered a sharp slap to her bottom. "By the darkness of oblivion, you can pleasure yourself with anything, can't you?"

He helped her by rolling his hips upward, smearing the head of his penis against her swollen clit.

"I can't help it; you're so handsome, my lord...!" She locked her lips. "I think... I was wrong about you. You're not as scary or cruel as you say." She blushed a little. "You love me so passionately...!"

She was glowing so brightly, glistening and beautiful on top of him. "I told you how I craved you," he murmured, as he slid his hand down the swell of her plump little ass. He swatted it again, pushing her forward onto his cock; just the head breached her, then he went still. He would make her wait to get what she wanted. "I can't resist taking everything you've given me."

She wiggled restlessly on top of him. "I'm glad I can give you something, my lord. I'm just... trying to repay for the pleasure that you've given me." Her teeth worried over her lower lip. "Can I have you now?"

Arching a brow, he nodded down at where they were so close to joining. "Show me what you can do, my lovely. Let me hear you sing for me."

She steadied him with a hand and slowly guided him inside again, breathing heavily. Her snatch swallowed him, rippling around him, holding him tight. "So big...!" She breathed with a blissful smile. "You fill me up perfectly." Once he was fully sheathed, she stopped for a moment to enjoy the sensation. Then she began to move. She rose slowly and came down fast, breasts jiggling from her movements. "Oh Pitch!"

The view was quite nice too; the Nightmare King could observe himself disappearing inside her again and again.

He had to take in deep breaths, fighting to keep himself calm and steady. But, she was so open, so eager for him, that it was difficult to keep control of his desires. His hands were at her breasts, kneading and stroking them like they were toys, then they moved to her waist and back around to her ass to control the speed of her movements.

"I'm going to come inside you," he hissed, murmuring into her ear while his fingers dug into her fleshy cheeks. "You want it, don't you."

"Yes." Her spirit voice rang softly in his head. "I want you to fill me up with your seed, until I'm brimming with it. I want it so bad. So please don't hold back. Spill it into me to the last drop." She slid her hands under her breasts and began to play with them herself, fingertips rolling the nipples, kneading and bouncing the soft, full mounds.

His movements became rougher, the tips of his fingers sliding up to her hips to grip them in bruising force. With his heels bracing against the bed, he shoved his cock sharply up to her quivering womb.

Pitch sat up with a roar, pinning her down on her back and shoving her fat little legs up beside her chest. Staring down into her sweet face, he bared his teeth and pounded her chubby cunt until his testicles tightened against his body. He used his knees to keep her legs spread while he finally gave in, and with a trembling shout, he filled her with his potent seed.

She gasped as their position changed abruptly, then he hit home and her voice rose the third time, calling his name and pleading to the Elder Spirits. Sandmaid's entire body quivered from the wonderful shock, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide and unfocused. Her womb sucked his seed up greedily, inner walls spasming around him. Her insides filled up quickly and the rest of his seed dribbled out, staining the sheets beneath them.

His ears rang from the praise, while his head spun dizzily and his body trembled in pleasure. Heart hammering in his throat, he sank down against her for just a brief, brief moment.

Then, he slowly pulled out, sliding onto his elbow and rolling over on his side. "That was three, I believe."

She curled up, cum still dribbling from her slit. her smile was pleased. 'It appears so. You didn't make it too hard. Or maybe you're just that good!" She giggled and smiled at him. "So, I'm free to go, right?"

Ah, yes. Of course she would want to go.

"Yes. I have much to attend to."

Though he was exhausted, he sat up and reached for his robe. He'd have enough light to last for quite sometime, so it was of no concern to him that she left. No concern at all.

She sat up and reached for her dress. "Can I have my dreamsand back?"

Pitch stood, though shakily, and shrugged his robe on. "It's near the entrance. I trust you can let yourself out."

"I'll manage." She was still smiling. "It was a true pleasure being your guest, Nightmare King. Next time however, you can skip the 'scaring senseless and kidnapping'-part. If you'd like company, all you have to do is ask."

He stood with his back to her, and for that, he was eternally grateful: she would miss that startled expression on his face and the flushed color on his cheeks. "I suppose I can keep that in mind."

She slipped past him, through the door; and she even dared to pat his backside briefly. "See you later."


End file.
